


fourteen moments (and one realization)

by lovebeyondmeasure



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: (he is also slightly oblivious), Cormoran is very into competency, F/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 06:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovebeyondmeasure/pseuds/lovebeyondmeasure
Summary: Falling in love is a process. Cormoran Strike is normally very observant, but somehow he doesn't notice it happening until it's too late. (Oh, shit.)





	fourteen moments (and one realization)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came to me as a concept and refused to let go. I hope you enjoy.

1\. Walking down the street, the first droplets of rain spattered down abruptly. Robin, barely breaking stride, pulled a plain black  umbrella large enough for two people out of her bag, and handed it to him. Cormoran unfurled it over them both. Neither commented.

2\. A client, upon discovering that her husband was not cheating on her with the secretary but in fact with his business partner, dissolved into world-shattered sobs. Robin gently steered the woman out of Cormoran’s office and out onto their sofa, where she gently plied the crying woman with tissues and tea until she was reasonable once more. This took all of six minutes. (He may have been counting.)

3\. On a Monday morning, Cormoran was awakened by brisk rapping on his door. When he finally stumbled out of his flat, dressed and only technically awake, Robin was waiting outside the office with a travel cup of fresh coffee, a few biscuits, and a slip of paper with the client’s address and phone number.

4\. Sitting in his office with the door open, Cormoran could hear and see Robin at her desk. She was chatting brightly with her mother on the phone while simultaneously drawing up bills for clients. Her chat was full of funny anecdotes about people she’d met on the Tube or in the produce section. She had a way of twirling her hair absently around her finger, and her laugh was like… like… He got up to close the door.

5\. Late on a Wednesday night, Cormoran’s mobile lit up with a text from Robin. She’d sent him an article about a breakin about 35 kilometers outside of London. It matched the M.O. of a series of three robberies they’d looked into a few weeks previous.

6\. One day, tired of fobbing off his sister’s attempts to find him a suitable mate, he brought Robin along to one of his nephew’s birthdays. She set about getting into the good graces of the one brother who was determined to have a bad time, and when he found her again, she was engaged in a very serious debate about the relative merits of Harry Potter houses. His nephew was firmly on the side of Gryffindor; Robin was upholding the honor of Hufflepuffs. (It was funny; he’d have thought she was a Ravenclaw.)

7\. Watching Robin sidle up to a mark at a bar and flirt him into giving her his number, Cormoran did not notice how tightly he was clutching the handle of his glass until he set it down and flexed his hand. 

8\. Coming off a set of uneven stairs, Robin slipped and gashed her knee on the sidewalk. Instead of panicking or, god forbid, crying, Robin simply sighed, “Oh, bollocks.” Then she led the way into the pub, sat down at a bench, and rummaged through her bag. She pulled out a wipe, cleaned off her scrape without wincing, and produced a bandage to slap over it, got up, threw away the wrappers, and ordered herself a large white wine. All without comment or complaint. 

9\. Peering at his mobile screen, Cormoran was attempting to decipher what a message said. The source he’d contacted was young and had an odd way of abbreviating, and he really didn’t understand “emojis” at all. Robin, rolling her eyes, took his mobile from his hand, translated the message aloud into good plain English, and whipped off a reply. She then continued going over their expenses.

10\. She was waiting outside for a cab, close to midnight. Strike watched the way the streetlights got caught in the gold of Robin’s hair.

11\. One morning, Cormoran looked at the rainbow of Post-Its Robin had left for him over the past few weeks and realized they were colour-coded. Calls from clients, calls from sources, appointments, follow-up reminders, personal notes, each one had its own shade. Feeling like a fool for not noticing earlier, he didn’t say anything about it. (He was, however, very impressed.)

12\. Meeting with a prospective client in his office, Cormoran suddenly heard shouting. As he began to get up, he heard another raised voice- Robin’s. “Sir! I understand you’re upset, but that is no call to barge in here and act like a child! Your time is not any more valuable than anyone else’s! Please sit down and wait for Mr. Strike to become available, or I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” He sat back down, finished the meeting with the impressed-looking client, and came out a few minutes later. When he emerged, he found Robin handing a cup of tea to an embarrassed older gentleman in a green coat. Robin met his gaze with a look he was coming to recognized: shaken, but steely. He nodded to her and gestured to the man to come into the office.

13\. One morning, he caught Robin laughing silently over her mobile. (He caught a glance. It was a cat video.)

14\. During a long, boring afternoon in which three clients in a row cancelled or postponed their meetings, Cormoran came out and lounged on the sofa, ostensibly napping. He spent much of this time with his eyes half-closed, watching Robin type faster than he ever could. She had a funny way of biting her lip that was far more interesting than it should have been. (He did, eventually fall asleep. If he snored, Robin didn’t comment.)

AND

1\. Helping Robin out of a cab one foggy evening, she grasped his hand and smiled up at him. This was the moment when the thought finally percolated: _oh fuck,_ Cormoran thought, flexing his hand and watching Robin move towards the door. _She’s- I’m- oh, fuck._


End file.
